


machines of loving grace

by annperkinsface



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Serial Experiments Lain
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2365352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annperkinsface/pseuds/annperkinsface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lain is alone until she isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	machines of loving grace

It's as simple as this:

Lain is alone until she isn't. She looks up, across, and there is tea and madeleines and a shock of color in an endless sea of nothingness, a distortion Lain gladly welcomes. The girl's dress seems to trail on forever, all whites and pinks and a purple that reminds Lain of bruise colored shadows.

"Kaname Madoka," Lain says, because there is nothing Lain does not know and that includes the identity of the person sitting before her.

Madoka smiles and it's like Alice's.

"Hello, Lain-chan."

Madoka's voice has all the sweetness of her smile and a lump wedges in her throat. She swallows around it, tears pooling in her eyes. It's not the Alice-like quality of Madoka's smile though she'd be lying if she said that wasn't part of it—it's being acknowledged, being _known_. No one knows Lain, not anymore. Lain's long since made her peace but this—

It's not the person who matters most but it's still more than she ever thought she'd get.

Lain smiles through her tears.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Madoka."

*

Madoka fills the room, changes it with her presence. When she is around, the electrical hum that has provided accompaniment to nearly every moment of Iwakura Lain's life dulls to nothing. There is only the soft but warm tones of Madoka's voice, the clinking of tea spoons, and silence.

*

"You’re lucky," says Lain once, though not unkindly. Lain is Lain, and Madoka is Madoka, and she really isn’t bitter. It’s just—Alice was seventeen and beautiful and most times seeing her is an affirmation and others it just leaves her tired and lonely. "You’re still remembered. You’re still loved."

"So are you," Madoka says, impossibly gentle, and Lain wonders if she will ever get used to this being true.


End file.
